


a little humility

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (but its thru his pants), (hubert is just getting his dick stepped on), Coming In Pants, Foot Jobs, Handcuffs, Kink Meme, M/M, Religious Undertones, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seteth pays a prisoner a visit.
Relationships: Seteth/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42
Collections: anonymous





	a little humility

**Author's Note:**

> a fill!
> 
> https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=6620

Hubert’s breath hitched as he heard footsteps coming towards him. That rhythmic, steady gait could only belong to Seteth. Like a dog at the sound of a whistle, Hubert tensed, his pupils dilated.

Not the ideal response, he thought.

Keys jingled as Seteth approached his cell, made of thick steel bars fastened with a lock. Even if the bars weren’t so impenetrable, Hubert had realized, his hands were always bound; he could do nothing about it. For the first time in a long time, Hubert von Vestra was truly powerless. He hadn’t even had the chance to imagine something like that happening to him. To be found out so quickly into him and Edelgard’s scheme, captured and bound like a petty thief.

Every time he got himself together, began to formulate a plan, or felt any sort of hope towards escaping his situation, Seteth came. Just on time.

Hubert’s wristwatch had been broken during his capture, and his cell didn’t have windows, so he never quite knew what time it was. But Seteth was always walking quietly, with only the slightest squeak from his boots. Did anybody know he was coming down there? Was it late at night, or early in the morning?

As always, Seteth had the first word. Hubert was kneeling on the cement floor, his legs long asleep, looking up at Seteth through the bars of the cell. Seteth folded his arms, keys dangling from his fingers.  _ Drop them, _ Hubert thought.  _ Drop them, let them clatter onto the floor in front of me. _

Of course, Seteth did not.

“Why, you have not moved an inch.”

“I’ve nowhere to go.” Hubert made sure to keep any self-pity out of his voice. He was merely stating a fact.

“Nowhere to go? Hm. Your ‘rebellion’ against the Church of Seiros seemed to be going in a similar direction—nowhere—and yet, you tried your hand anyway. Has your spirit been broken so easily?”

Hubert did not dignify him with a response. Seteth shook his head, unfolded his arms, and unlocked the cell. Hubert’s body wanted to pounce, to make an attempt at escape, but he had the mind of a tactician, and he knew how that would end: in a sore body, bruises and scrapes, and nothing to show for it.

He would bide his time. That was why he did not move when Seteth approached him, shutting the door behind him. He looked up with defiant, serious eyes.

“Sinners are always the most arrogant,” Seteth remarked. “So sure of themselves, so confident in their actions, despite the Goddess’ impending punishment.”

Garbage. Filth. Nonsense. The sheep-like words of a believer.

“What will it take for people like you to realize?”

Seteth came closer, folded his arms again, looking down his nose at his captive.

He lifted his foot, and brought it down to Hubert’s crotch.

Hubert’s lips curled in a grimace, but he did not react otherwise—not until Seteth pressed down a bit more, crushing his balls, his pride. At that, he groaned out loud a bit.

“Greed, pride, lust—you allow yourself to be taken over by such trivial things,” Seteth said, sighing. There was the tiniest hint of pleasure in his face, a little smirk on his lips. Hubert hadn’t thought him to be so sinister. He and Edelgard knew their enemies, and although Seteth was important, he was hardly a threat in their eyes. Perhaps it was him they should have been watching out for. “You think yourself a schemer, a tactician, a genius, because these sins have clouded your judgement. And look at you now. Proven inferior to the Goddess, like everyone else.”

Seteth bore down harder, then began to move his foot. He had no trouble with his balance; he was putting so much of his weight on Hubert’s growing cock that falling over was virtually impossible. Hubert jostled him a bit, though, shaking in his handcuffs and jerking his body. He felt his pants getting tighter, his member getting harder.  _ A physical reaction, _ he reminds himself.  _ A reaction to stimulation. _

However, as Seteth kept talking, that was getting harder and harder to believe. “How difficult it must be, to earn your place this way. If only you were pious before, Hubert—if only you feared the Goddess’ might.”

“I fear no-one,” Hubert said. No matter how much he wanted to hold back, the pressure on his groin and Seteth’s taunting words agitated him. 

“Of course you fear no-one. Your perception of your life has been twisted, tainted by the lies of the Emperor’s daughter. Never mind that—soon, you will be broken.” Seteth pushed down harder, and Hubert’s cock  _ ached, _ and he was mortified to realize that it wasn’t only from pain. “You will realize your place in the Goddess’ arms—whether you enjoy it or not, you will realize how meaningless you are as a consequence of your own foolishness. I often wonder how long it will take you. How many times must you cum beneath my boot before you realize that you’ve lost?”

_ I’ve lost? _

Hubert lurched forward, his lips peeling back from his teeth, just as Seteth threw his weight forward. Pain and raw euphoria shot through Hubert’s body in a strange mixture—he’d never experienced either of those feelings in such volumes, and never together. But Seteth looking down at him,  _ stepping _ on him like a filthy doormat, forcing him to realize the hopelessness of his predicament...it was a situation he never could have calculated, never could have even imagined, and his mind couldn’t keep up with his body.

_ Merely a physical reaction, _ he reminded himself as his head lolled backward and his balls emptied. Seteth always pulled back at that point, watching with amusement as Hubert’s dick fotened and his seed spilled into his underwear. He seemed satisfied by the growing dark patch on Hubert’s pants—tangible proof of his win against the Empire’s greatest tactician.

_ No. He hasn’t won me. He will not  _ win  _ me. _

Hubert wanted to spit out a remark, to show Seteth one more time that he wasn’t done yet—but no words came. No venomous insults, no triumphant maxims. Just silence as he panted, trying to catch his breath.

“...It will not be long,” Seteth mused. “Good. There is only so much time out of my day that I am willing to spend on arrogant sinners.”

“Then leave,” Hubert growled, finding his voice. It was trembling; the aftershocks of his forced climax were still running through him. 

“Of course, this will still take some time,” Seteth mused, as if thinking aloud. “Spend this time reflecting, Hubert von Vestra. Perhaps, through prayer, the Goddess will find you and show you the way to the light.”

Seteth looked down at his boot, moving it this way and that to catch the light—not a trace of Hubert’s seed on him, as always. For a Goddess-fearing man like him, it would be improper, wouldn’t it, if someone saw him with a prisoner’s seed on his shoe?

After his brief examination, Seteth gave Hubert a business-like nod, so casual that Hubert, in his dizzied state of mind, almost nodded back. Instead, he sat there, stone-faced, as Seteth’s boots echoed away after he locked Hubert’s cell.

Hubert let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Like every time Seteth left, he had to pick up the pieces of his pride.

_ He hasn’t won. _

_ You fear no-one. _

_ The Empire will rise again. _


End file.
